


Raindrops///Bujeet Fanfiction

by StoneHeartCole



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Girls in Love, Multi, Yaoi, Yuri, bujeet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26510416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneHeartCole/pseuds/StoneHeartCole
Summary: Several years have passed since Phineas and Isabella went to study in New Jersey and Ferb went to England. Baljeet decides to teach astronomy at a New York University. Despite the stable financial and professional situation, the young Indian feels that something is missing in his life. The boy's situation is not improved by the fact that his parents still insist that he finally get engaged and marry Ginger ... Can a simple car accident change everything?
Relationships: Baljeet Tjinder & Buford van Stomm, Baljeet Tjinder/Buford van Stomm, Bujeet
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Krople Deszczu/// Bujeet Fanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/685561) by StoneHeartCole. 



> This story is only a translation of my original story in Polish from the Wattpad website. The story is original, however Phineas and Ferb aren't mine and Disney property. I'm still learning and helping myself with Google Translate. Please understand. If there are big mistakes, you can explain in the comment why I made the mistake and how to write correctly, I will be grateful. Hope you enjoy the Bujeet story itself ^^

,,And this is how we end the lecture on the work of black holes. Anyone have any questions?’’ Asked a bored Indian, equally bored students, furtively playing with a pencil or staring at the phone screen if their seats were out of the professor's sight. Only one of them seemed tireless in the late evening hours and, as always, raised his hand, shifting nervously in his chair.

,,Yes, Charlie?’’ Baljeet propped himself up on the table, trying as much as possible to let the student know that he was fed up with this lecture and, like all students, would prefer to be outside the college building. Charlie, however, was a tiny ball of energy - he never got discouraged by Professor Tjinder's allusions, and his ideas and questions seemed to be endless. He was a black-haired, short, always impeccably dressed boy with big brown eyes and fair skin. If he were to be honest, Baljeet saw himself and his old acquaintance, Flynn Fletcher. What distinguished the nerd was the large braces on his teeth and his incredible love for the subject of astronomy, about which he knew almost everything.

,,I have a question as to the point where, suppose, a man would be sucked through a black hole. Could, theoretically, at such a moment he could move to another world? Are there black holes so small that they cannot endanger humans? Could it be so big as to suck in the entire universe?’’

,,The only black hole you've experienced is that of your old mother" one student laughed, and there was unrestrained chuckles among the rest. Tears brightened in the nerd's eyes for a moment, and the young professor reluctantly rose from his desk.

,,If you are so wise, Mr. Whiter, for the next lesson you will write an entire essay about black holes, and not the human ones.’’

The chuckles stopped. Everyone knew that the professor was as young as they were, but he was nevertheless famous for his austerity and undisturbed peace. Few people passed him on, but his lectures were eagerly attended. Apparently, even those who failed to pass, left with more knowledge than students after the fifth year. ,,Mr. Tjinder, I ..." said the confused, blonde-haired bully, probably just realizing what trouble he was in.

,,Professor, as already. Fifteen pages. In, um ...’’ Baljeet thought about it, playing with the lock on his black, elegant briefcase ,,In two days? Quite a long time.’’

,,But Professor, it is impossible!’’ The rogue embarrassed, looking uncertainly around the room as if looking for any support from his colleagues. But they all looked away in unison. Baljeet smiled slightly. He was getting some satisfaction from the power he could now possess over the tormentor, not the other way around.

,,End of lecture. I think we've all exhausted enough knowledge from this. ” The thin man sighed carelessly, then got up from his desk and began packing documents into his briefcase. In one moment, the crowd of students spilled out like a flock of sheep from the classroom. Putting on a stylish brown coat, Baljeet, however, noticed out of the corner of his eye that there was still a concerned little Charlie at his desk.

,,Thank you professor ..." he said in a whisper, and he lowered his head uncertainly, as if the floor was the most interesting thing in the world for him right now.

,,You have nothing to thank me for, Charlie’’ saying that, Baljeet headed to the exit of the room together with the black-haired one, to finally lock it up - People who are so poorly brought up should be punished, I know something about that.

,,Yes...?’’ the young man raised his head, and in his eyes you could easily see hope ,,Professor ... did you have such situations too?’’ He asked as they walked up the stairs to the ground floor together.

,,Yes. Even more often than you can imagine’’ the Indian smiled kindly at him.

,,And what did the Professor do?’’ Charlie persisted, even as young Tjinder handed over the keys to the older, perpetually unhappy janitor. This question embarrassed the man a little, but he kept playing.

,,Well ... Cases are different. Sometimes people tease, because they seek attention by hurting others, and sometimes ...’’ he sighed and broke the thread, seeing the downpour outside the window and looking for a folding umbrella in his briefcase ,,Mr. Whiter, unfortunately, belongs to those mentioned by me’’

,,I see ... I'll be on my way to the bus. Have a nice evening, Professor.” Charlie nodded slightly, and Baljeet just realized that he hadn't had time to answer his lecture questions, but it was too late. Young Tjinder sighed and walked confidently towards the streets of the old town. The downpour stopped a bit so he could walk more slowly without risking getting wet. The streets of the New York district, usually bustling with life, now practically did not represent a single living soul. There was only a splash of rain which was relaxing to some extent for the man. He liked the seclusion and appreciated moments like this - he was only alone with his thoughts back then. Especially now that he had something important to think about.

Charlie and the situation from the lecture perfectly reminded him of the times of sweet childhood, when he and Phineas and Ferb played in their garden, experiencing some adventures and building new inventions together. He usually had a lot of fun all summer, and even on school days he had to come up with something interesting together. Charlie had something in his eye that young Flynn did. Hope and eternal optimism despite the bad situations he faced. This in turn reminded him of himself. He never got discouraged by anything, even when ...

Buford.

He wanted to avoid the subject, so he silently rated himself for having started it.

Buford terrified Baljeet at first. He tormented him and teased him forever in everything, at almost every step. As a result, his grades in school deteriorated, and as a child he began to grow into fear and paranoia. However, when he met Phineas and Ferb, the situation drastically changed. Phineas, even with a smile on his face, showed him that he can sometimes read Buford like an open book. The little redhead is very close to Baljeet. One day, he suggested that he avoid Buford for one week. He even built a special device for him - the Invisible. This allowed Baljeet to vanish from his tormentor at any time. The Indian listened to his friend, and after a week he was surprised to discover that Buford was completely devastated after school, and every day after school politely asked Ms. Tjinder about Baljeet, checking to see if he was home. Baljeet found out that Buford needed him.

When he returned to school after a week of "absences," he noticed a significant change in Buford's behavior. His only form of teasing became wedgies - which, for some unknown reason, he liked best - in addition, he often confided in Baljeet, began to treat him with more and more respect, and a few days later invited him to spend the night. Baljeet was afraid it was just a temporary scam, but ... The mountain of meat and fat finally opened to him. Their friendship was strengthened by the fact that they discovered that they loved old seventies sitcoms together, so every Friday they arranged to watch one classic, usually at Buford's. It wasn't long before Baljeet and Buford became friends, and the obese allowed himself more and more, like carrying Baljeet everywhere with him under his arm or on his back (the body size of the young Tjinder definitely allowed that). As the events unfolded, Baljeet felt more and more at ease in the presence of the brown-haired man, and over time he gathered the courage to even annoy him and argue about his own opinion on some issues. They became best friends, even better than Baljeet and Phineas before. They were inseparable.

But one day something ... broke.

Young Tjinder sniffed the crisp evening air, then began impatiently searching for a bunch of apartment keys in his briefcase. He was slowly entering a district of the slightly wealthier center, where he owned an apartment, and there were definitely more people here.  
He remembered that day and this conversation very well. End of vacation. The sky was pink, and he and Buford were sitting on a cement fence near Baljeet's house. They were both fifteen. Him in a blue T-shirt and white shorts, and Buford in a neglected, slightly ragged tracksuit and a loose-fitting black sweatshirt with a skull motif. They both ate ice cream and talked about everything and nothing, but the dark-haired boy knew well that he had to confess it to Buford in the end.  
,,Then ... where are you going to school?’’ Buff began with a little hesitant voice, as if knowing full well he was stepping onto thin ice. The Indian pushed the ringlets behind his ear and looked at his former tormentor.

,,Well ... They accepted me to a very prestigious school.’’

,,Yes?’’

,,Exactly.’’

,,Is it far away?’’ The boy did not even notice how his friend surreptitiously approached him and brushed his small hand with his thick fingers. Baljeet, as if resting his head completely naturally on his shoulder.

,,Stanford University ..." the shorter boy whispered, almost silently.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, interrupted by a frenzy - It was Buford who took his hand from Baljeet's.

,,So you'll be studying at the University? And it's almost the best in the whole globe? You're just gonna leave me ...?’’ in the voice of the plump boy you could hear the regret, which in a new sense was tearing the heart of the frail Indian into small pieces.

,,It's not like that, Buford ... It's my dream to study there. I just win contests, you know that, I quickly skipped a few classes ...’’

Shit! The keys were found, but they turned out to be from the cloakroom. He will have to call the dean immediately and explain why his keys to the apartment were at the nice lady's cloakroom in the office. Damn it.

,,But ... Baljeet ... I ...’’

,,I'll be calling, I promise! And I will write’’ the kid smiled radiantly, trying to make a good face for a bad game. Everyone knew that at that moment, whether or not they wanted to, their paths were dividing in opposite directions. Buford got up and looked only sadly at Baljeet, who felt something piercing his heart.

,,It's ... See you next vacation ... I guess?’’

,,Buford, I'm moving to Stanford. I'm not going back to Danville anymore ...’’

,,So go there and don't upset me anymore !!!’’ Suddenly dark blue eyes shouted at him, then with a determined step he walked away towards his house, dropping the ice cream in the middle of the sidewalk. Baljeet felt tears welling up in his eyes. He had no idea Buford was just around the corner doing the same...

,,Baljeet?’’ a female voice from the intercom effectively took the Indian out of his thoughts.

,,Why aren't you coming in ...?’’

,,Ginger, honey, would you let me in? I gave the cloakroom room the wrong keys...’’

The brown-eyed man heard a click in the moment he was already in the stairwell. As he walked towards the elevator, he tried not to modernize what private lecture to follow for losing the keys. Oh, it won't be easy, definitely. Ginger was annoying at times.

Entering an open apartment, already know that something is wrong. The atmosphere was definitely thick. He closed the door quietly behind him, then took off his coat, carefully placing it on the hanger. Light out of time off. Baljeet quickly slipped into the bathroom and sighed calmly. He had at least some time to release the action strategy.

Ginger appeared in his life not long after he left for Stanford. It turned out that she moved here with her parents when her older sister was studying, her father found a stable, better-paying job. She was the same age as Baljeet, and she was still in high school. On the whole, the Hindu was glad to have a stranger overview in finding her. You could say that thanks to the Japanese, he didn't feel lonely. They walked downtown together after school and often came to the cafe for delicious donuts, laughing and remembering the old days of their childhood. The black-haired girl was very pleasant to talk to - young, intelligent and, as it turned out, a lot of common topics with her future boyfriend.  
Time inevitably passed. But it was friendship. By the time.

Until his own parents turned against him and, together with Ginger's parents, devised a satanic plan to bind them together, which, out of spite, split.  
What was his surprise when he suddenly found out from Ginger herself that she really had a little something for him. And that "little" was actually deeply hidden for some years. At that point Baljeet felt a bit like Phineas when he discovered that Isabella loved him.

Back then, Baljeet thought that it just had to be that way. This is the way things are. Ginger was not ugly, on the contrary - she was a very pretty, almost mature girl. Her beauty could easily be envied by her gender independence. With little thought, he agreed to walk, and their friendship grew even stronger. They felt good in each other's company and could also talk to each other about everything.

After Baljeet graduated from college, at the urging of their parents, they moved to New York with Ginger. First shy kisses, then awkward first sex - it just all just went its own way, blocky. Baljeet found a stable job at the local university - besides, with his academic achievements it was not particularly difficult. The Japanese woman, who was still studying, contributed to the rent from her scholarship.

When he called his friends and told them about him, he usually didn’t call the discussion in admiration. Phineas, who traveled in Sweden, was impressed, and they asked him to build a machine to study a particular type of element.

,,But I envy you! You have a stable job, a nice girl and a guaranteed future ... I have to wander the world, they still want something from me somewhere ... Izabela is not too happy about this fact’’

,,Mgphm-yes?’’ The Indian asked, currently brushing his teeth and trying to somehow switch Phineas to speaker.

,,We haven't been talking to each other lately ... You know, I'm still busy. You're lucky Ginger is next to you. Have you called Ferb yet?’’

,,Yezs" Baljeet muttered, spitting water from his mouth into the sink, then wiped his mouth with a towel. ,,But you know, Ferb is Ferb." His silence could mean anything.

,,All Ferb," the redhead laughed into the receiver. ,,I'll pass the message on to Izabela. How's Buford?’’

After that awkward question, Baljeet felt a chill on his spine. He was a little afraid that the redhead would ask about it eventually.

,,I haven't had contact with him in ... five years?’’ He swallowed hard, trying to cover his nervous voice as much as possible. 

There was a long silence in the receiver, then he heard Phineas' firm voice:

,,Call him.’’

,,Just? After not speaking five years ...? And what will I tell him? That it is wonderful for me to live? It's a definite acquaintance, Phineas, you know well...’’

,,I know. But you should anyway. If only for pure politeness.’’

,,How did he change the number?’’

,,I'll call myself and find out.’’

,,No...! Okay ... I'll handle it myself. But don't call him for me, okay?’’

,,You promise?’’

,,I promise.’’

That day, two months ago, he lied to a friend. He hadn't called, hadn't even thought of calling Buford. He always put that thought off for later. Not now.

Not now...

On his way out of the bathroom, Baljeet entered the kitchen to warm up the dinner Ginger had left for him. Staring thoughtfully at the microwave light, he remembered the e-mail he was about to send to Charlie. After eating the steak with potatoes, however, he still couldn't think. He changed into pajamas and entered a rather richly furnished bedroom to see Ginger lying in bed, reading a book with glasses, it was probably an affair. Baljeet settled down beside her without a word and stared at the phone.

,,Then you will explain to me why you mistook the keys to the room with ours?’’ The girl smiled privately, slowly taking off her glasses ,,Usually it doesn't happen to you. But lately ... you're kind of distracted.’’

,,I don't know what you mean" said Baljeet, staring at the screen, wondering how to reply Charlie to such existential questions. The young woman touched his shoulder gently, and Baljeet felt a warm shiver.

,,I see. For more or less the last two months, everything is falling out of your hands. First you forgot to do your shopping, which never happens to you, then you park your car out of nowhere, now it's ...’’

"Ginger, I love you, but I really don't feel like talking like that right now. I’m tired today’’ the Indian put down the phone and after a while to lie down on the opposite side.

,,But Baljeet ... you can always tell me, do you know that?’’

No, I can't, thought brown-eyed, covering himself more with the duvet. Ginger, having found out about the source of the problem, would almost immediately order him to call Buford, and then there would be no way out.

,,It's just that these college jerks keep annoying me, that's all.’’

He couldn't see her, but in his mind's eye he saw her worried look. She sighed, then turned to the other side of the bed as well.

,,When the time is right, you can tell me. I will listen to you as always. I always listened."

Baljeet squeezed his eyes shut in anger, No, I can't, he told himself.

I can't see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

Night. Loud party. The noise of an ambulance passing by. The sounds of cars honking and screeching tires.

In the middle of sin city, Las Vegas, Nevada.

Buford squashed his cigarette with his black knee-length boots as he glanced at his watch. It was twenty-three. They should be opening by now. He stretched, then started toward a dark side door. Upon entering, he briefly greeted the boss and then headed to a specific room. The air was stuffy and filled with cigarette smoke. It was easy to smell alcohol in the cramped corridor. The brown-haired man pushed his way through the people, wanting to find himself in an isolated room as soon as possible. Upon entering it, he closed the door carefully and took off his jacket, casually tossing it on an armchair in front of a large, lighted mirror. He looked up and studied his reflection.

A mature, pale guy in his twenties. Dark blue eyes tired of life, long hair tied in a short ponytail at the back. Light stubble on the face, which definitely didn’t add beauty to an obese body, dressed in a black corset, fishnet stockings and high black boots. The man sighed, then began to improve his appearance to look more appealing thanks to the cosmetics taken out of the drawers. Another performance.

But it might as well be a striptease.

Buford knew full well that the dream of getting into film school would only be a dream. As soon as he was submitting his papers after graduating from high school, he realized that the chances of getting there with his mediocre academic performance could only be a dream. However, he completed all the formalities. Maybe deep down he was just hoping for some miracle ...

But just as lost hope of ever seeing friends who fled to different parts of the world, dreams of getting into the film school were also broken. He was not accepted in the final recruitment. End. Linden. Defeat.

Even so, he lied to his mother that he had gotten into college somewhere in Las Vegas. For the first time in so long he saw tears of joy in her eyes. Oh, how proud she was of her little son! To all her friends to the right and left, she boasted that Buff would study in such a large city. She eagerly found a friend of a friend who was to rent him a modest apartment near the University. Buford was unable to confess to her face that he wasn't really studying anywhere and was going there to find his fortune. He loved her and wanted her to experience some sort of peace at least at the end of her life. He also hoped that going into the big world from little Danville would open up some prospects for him, and he would start his own dizzying career in show business.

However, this did not happen.

Buford glanced reluctantly at the furry white scarf and a slightly worn out gaudy plume of the same shades. He donned both items of clothing, then left the room, heading for the stage entrance. Behind him he heard a few whistles and cackling of older guys standing in the hallway. He may not have been the star, but a favorite among the actors in a squalid bar. One of the men slapped his buttocks vigorously along the way, and Buford gave him a lethal glare. The male subject paled a little when on closer inspection he noticed that the actor was definitely not a woman. After a while, he disappeared from the narrow corridor.  
,,Boss, when are we coming in?’’ He asked in a slightly hoarse voice of a thin businessman standing by one of the steps.

,,The others are ready, Buffaline." A man in a suit with short-cut dark hair was just counting a bundle of money, probably thrown on stage by a "fan" after the last performance. "You're in in five minutes."

Buffaline was Buford's artistic nickname. He couldn't help but break down and look for any job in the end, right here - in the hands of "Mr. James," as he was called. He promised him incredible amounts of money and fans, which in fact turned out to be just a payment for basic necessities and a hideous show to excite rich old perverts *.

He no longer spoke to old friends, and they did not call him. He didn't know why. Since they started high school and Baljeet left to Stanford, contact with Phineas, Ferb, and Issabela had lost *. It's as if this little Indian is his pass and liaison with friends. He felt rejected and really lonely. It was then that his grades deteriorated to such an extent that he had to pass the first year, this time in high school. He began to fall into addictions such as cigarettes, alcohol and parties. After failing his exams, a friend suggested Las Vegas. "City of perspectives" - he heard. It was here that his dream of being a stage star was to come true. And in a way it was so, if the stage could be called an old stage covered with silver glitter in the middle of an uninteresting venue.

Buford adjusted the short ponytail at the back of his head, then slipped on a lacy black mask over his eyes. He went on stage with a couple of other scantily clad choreographers. The music typical for the club flew from the loudspeakers, and the audience, excited as if by the darkness in the room, stared intently at the shiny fragments of the platform.  
A moment later, on the stage full of bright light, a shapely dancer dressed in a skimpy, red outfit appeared, followed by another, and then another, practically the same. Part of the audience has already started whistling loudly and commenting on the girls clothes, but everyone was waiting for the known person. Along with the chorus, she - Buffaline appeared on stage.

The sad expression on the face and the dark circles under the eyes had disappeared, instead there was a wonderful smile accompanied by a sexy red lipstick. The deep blue eyes were accentuated with a glistening black eyeshadow, which now seemed to glow in the light of the old headlight, as did the black body-hugging bodysuit. Buffaline took a few steps to the beat of the music, then confidently grabbed the microphone and looked seductively towards the men seated closer to the stage who had previously paid more for their seats.

After which, she began to sing.

A manly, alluring, deep voice did not disturb most of the audience in the place, who knew who Buffaline was and came here especially for her. If anyone seemed less interested, he focused his attention on the other dancers or dancers who were moving around the audience or stage, swinging their hips to the music.

Admittedly, there was something extraordinary about Buffaline's voice.

Deep and mysterious bass echoed all over the place in a beautiful, romantic song. Buford was dazzling by twirling his hips and his talent was very visible. He liked to sing and charm people as it sounded in music. The entire performance would have been wonderfully uplifting if it hadn't been for the filthy perverted comments about his body. That's why he appreciated it so much when someone sat and listened culturally, instead of staring at his ass.

One such quiet person today was a young man in a red peaked cap. Buford couldn't see his face clearly against the light, but he was trying to focus his attention on him during the performance. He was overjoyed when the light-skinned man smiled in his direction.

After the performance, when he left the stage, squeezing his way through the narrow corridor again, rubbing against strangers, horny men he heard whispers. These were, of course, another "discreet" request for sex for big bucks. He looked uncertainly at his boss in the background, staring at him with a ‘’agree or you go out" look, then he sighed and turned to one of the people. He only saw the furiously red peaked cap before he was dragged into one of the darkrooms.

,,Fine. How much do you pay?’’ The brown-haired man asked in a slightly hoarse voice, closing the door behind him and grabbing the lock from the back of the body.

,,If you just sing to me again, baybe.’’ Buford heard only a high-pitched whisper in his ear, then frowned. In less than a second, the man was pinned to the wall and then thrown with an enormous force of fat muscles onto the sofa.

,,It's not funny, Irving," Buford growled, taking the plume from his head and tossing it somewhere in the corner. ,,What do you want from me?" I'm not in touch with anyone anymore, from Danville.

The redhead took off his cap, then adjusted one of the golden lenses in his eyes. Admittedly, it would be hard for Buford to recognize him ... He changed. He got taller, at last he didn't wear braces, he began to dress with taste, and the golden lenses and fashionable hairstyle made him a certain charm. However, his squeaky voice betrayed him completely.

Irving smirked, then got up from the couch.

,,Found you recently. It was a little loud, you know, out in town.’’

,,That's not what I mean. Why are you here? As far as I know, you worked in some agency ...’’ muttered Buford, grabbing the nearest blanket and covering himself with it. He didn't feel very comfortable exposing so much body to his old acquaintance.

,,Yes, but I quit it. I was just an intern anyway. I don't know what idiot would want to work there all his life for free. I'm making much better money gambling at the local casinos ... Well, guess what?’’ The boy smiled even wider as he slowly approached Buford.

,,I have a suggestion. Recently I won something that a certain valuables dealer in New York really cares about. You will deliver it to him and I will reward you handsomely.’’

,,What?’’

,,This.’’ The former nerd parted the cap a bit so that Buford could see at least several hundred thousand in complex files that were "professionally" taped to the material.

,,Idiot! If they catch you with it, they will rob you right away’’ the former tormentor told him, closing the door more carefully and listening ,,How much?’’

,,Five hundred thousand dollars." Irving continued grinning, as if pleased with himself. ,,It was easy. These rich casinos suckers don't even know the simplest of probabilities.’’

,,Why me and what will you get out of it?’’ Buford asked, still standing distrustfully next to the door.

,,Simple - you need financial help, you can see it. And I need these three million in return for this-‘’

,,Three million" Buford interrupted rudely ,,How do you know I'll give it back to you?"

,,We share an old acquaintance. Besides, I will help you break away and make a decent life in your new city. I guess that's a fair stake ... And I know you really have a good heart. Does it suit you?’’ The redhead stretched out his hand towards the former bully. The man snorted roughly, quickly wondering if it was worth getting involved at all.

He didn't like the thought of Irving being kind-hearted. He knew it was due to old memories, but that was long ... ago.

,,Let it be’’ sighed the brown-haired ,,Hide it and meet me tomorrow in my apartment’’ saying that, he handed him a small business card with an address. Irving raised his eyebrows significantly, and Buford winced as if in disgust.

,,Don't think too much there, because your head will swell.’’ The massive man muttered, then left the darkroom, leaving Irving alone in a rather controversial setting.

He changed quickly in his room and headed towards the main street. It didn't take a few seconds for him to blend in with the crowd of other gray people.

As if out of spite, it was raining. Buford was cold, but he wasn't going to chatter like a sucker. Instead, he tried to focus on the words of the redhead he had just heard. The bundle of huge money kept circulating in his mind, and what he could buy with it added even more emotions. He took a deep breath, taking his apartment keys out of his pocket. He was in the habit of losing them lately, and he didn't want to see the locksmith look at him like an idiot again.

Baljeet would never lose them, thought the man, and smiled involuntarily. Baljeet.

Little Indian nerd who changed so much in his hopeless life.

Buford didn't even think this teasing could turn into something so ... special.

At first, he didn't feel anything special about the nerd. He just loved to tease him. He was irritated by the Indian's stability in his emotions and the fact that he was able to hide them perfectly, unlike the bully. Therefore, driving the black-haired man crazy has become a favorite activity of a bully. The fascination was always unearthly, especially when Baljeet got pissed off in front of his teacher about Buford, then apologized and had to explain himself. Brown-haired, although he felt then that he was better than him.

Because other than that, he had little to offer. Brown-eyed was brilliant in everything from school grades, through impeccable behavior, to cooking great dishes. Buford felt like a loser most of the time with him. But despite this, he did not leave his step.

Baljeet was the first to reach out to him and offer friendship. At first, of course, Buford snorted and declined the offer, but on Friday he showed up at the Baljeet's house at eight.

,,But you said you didn't like sitcoms," the Indian said in a thin voice, standing barefoot in only his pajamas and staring out the door at the huge form of a tormentor.

,,Nah, maybe it will be tolerable," Buford rolled his eyes, without hesitating forcing himself inside. Soon after, a year after that, he and Baljeet knew all their secrets.

He remembered it all, and he remembered playing with Baljeet in every possible game, but only in the beginning. Black-haired man, probably wanting to scare him, looked through millions of game guides and after the next few rounds he overtook dark blue by millions of points. Usually then there was a "game change". The whole situation usually lasted a week, so it's no wonder that Buford stocked up floppy disks with his favorite titles in his closet, wanting to amaze the nerd with his skills for a moment. This was their childhood.

It ended when Baljeet left.

And he never came back.

Buford cleared his throat as he entered the empty apartment and closed the door behind him. He took off his wet jacket and tossed it over the pile of other clothes on the chair. He was a muddler, true, but he couldn't change it by himself.

He hasn't seen him in years ...

Rubbing his tired temples, he opened the refrigerator to reach for an energy drink and a ready-made hot dog from the supermarket. After eating it, he lay on the creaky bed, imagining that in a few days he would be sleeping on a comfortable mattress in the new apartment he would buy. However, the thought did not ... please him.

How can anyone be happy when no one is around?

He hugged the pillow against him, then fell asleep anxiously. He tried not to think about the past, hoping that money would give him what he needed in life.

Or not...

And that was what frightened him the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * I just wanted to point out that I have nothing against Drag Queen and I respect such performances because they are a unique artistic form. In the story, we present a typical striptease bar focused on earning money by employing not only men but also women. The negative light shed on this kind of performance aims to show the darker side of such a business, the fault of which actually lies in the terrible owner, focused solely on profit.
> 
> * Original episode of "Act Your Age" is not included. In the world depicted in the story, it took place, but without Buford's participation.
> 
> Thank you for your positive ratings and comments! I will continue this story (hopefully) till the end. Remember, if I make any grammar mistakes feel free to mention in the comment, I'm still learning English. Have a nice day and see you in the next chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

,,Damn it, damn it ...’’ cursed Buford, trying to find any clue on Google Maps for the easiest way to get to New York. He perfectly remembered how nervous he had been when he had previously found a job offer in the local theater, this time with much better benifits. There was one problem. The deal had to be in place by tomorrow evening. He was afraid that he would have to take a plane, and he did not want to spend the sum so quickly. It seemed, however, that he would have no choice but to make it by evening, he would have to rent a car and drive there in person. All of this together generated great costs. He was forced to choose first class, because nothing else had gone out at night. Buford gasped and scratched his head, still trying to come up with a plan for the move. He looked around at his already slightly empty room, which looked even paler after the man had packed his modest possessions into a suitcase. After a while he focused his eyes on the phone, instinctively extending his hand to it, which he then lowered.

He won't ring there. Not now.

Really, he'd often found it inclined to call one of his old friends and ask for advice. Despite the passage of so many years, loneliness and addictions, he still trusted them. He forgot, however, that many of them had probably already changed numbers, and some of them don't even remember him.

Or maybe ... they remember?

He sighed again and bit the tip of the pen as his stomach rumbled.

Maybe they remember this short fat man, always tormenting the weaker in all ways, always so pessimistic about the world and the surrounding reality ...?

Naah, definitely not.

The brown-haired man abruptly got up from his desk, grabbing the phone, and headed towards the suitcase in the corridor.

Maybe at least he remembered ...

He knew the biographs of his friends. Phineas worked on the road, which, he probably guessed, made Izabela very unhappy, Ferb and Vanessa had a sweet life in Britain ... And now he met Irving here. So he was even able to find out about him. But not about Baljeet...

The problem with Tjinder was that he hadn't updated his Facebook for a long time, and Buford didn't get to know his other accounts. The profile picture still showed the smiling, sweet 15-year-old that Buford remembered and would so much like to come back to. Time, unfortunately, cannot be turned back. And that was what hurt the former tormentor the most.

He regretted his words and the fact that he had yelled at him then. However, no one knew that after this event, he went straight to his room and did not leave for a week, plunging into bottomless sadness and depression. Had it not been for his beloved mother, he would have probably died of starvation and dehydration.

"Everything for you, Baljeet. Why did you disappear like that, why didn't you yell at me yourself? "- he thought half an hour later, handing over the keys to the apartment to the owner -" I know you could ... "

Sometimes he had bad thoughts. That it was his fault that he hadn't looked after, didn't come back himself. What if Baljeet is already dead? What if his funeral was long ago and he hadn't even been invited? In his head he heard the voices of indignant friends talking about himself.

,,Invite? His? What for? Because of him, Baljeet mostly suffered in life’’

,,Wouldn't like to see him again, NEVER’’

,,Why do you think he went to Stanford? He wanted to free himself from him.’’

,,He was terrible. I saw him smoking during high school breaks with these shady guys. Probably now lying in some ditch or garbage can. Let him lie. He should be.’’

Sometimes these voices kept him awake at night and made him cry during the night. To tears that no one but himself has ever wiped.

The wide man couldn't find his way around the airport he had never been to, except for the one time he and his mother came to pick up his dad. He didn't like this place. He thought only of crying and tears for his father, who would never leave the A-7 entrance again.

In vain, his mother explained to him that daddy was working in a very rich place now and would come back to them in a while. Benjamin Van Stomm was never to appear in their lives again, as Buford only found out after a few years.  
His father worked abroad under the excuse of offers from very prestigious companies. He was a banker, or so she thought, faithful to the end, Biffany. The brown-haired man remembered how she despaired for over three months, often went out in the evenings and did not come back until late, when she found out that her beloved husband had spent everything in the casinos there or that he had tasted life with practically most prostitutes for the money he sent from his family. Benjamin was different from them - handsome, always cool with his son and wife, impeccably smiling, dressed, always scolding Buford for the slightest mess and bad judgment. When the boy grew older, his mother told him with tears in her eyes that it was all because of her carcass and neglect after pregnancy. That's why dad left them, it's all her fault. Buford did his best not to make her think that way - for himself, his own mother was the most wonderful woman in the world and he would never imagine replacing her with some empty silicone-inflated doll. Years later, when his ungrateful father graciously sent him a bundle of big money for his eighteenth birthday, he bought his mother a luxurious spa stay for it. He knew well that he was the whole world to her.

"Be careful when you walk, fat boy," Buford snapped out of his thoughts a strange voice of an Indian passing him. Without thinking, the man sped up and sat in number 74. The seat was comfortable and large, but the passengers were definitely bloated and unpleasant. The tall Indian who had just hit him had just sat down a few places away next to some busty blonde, then unfolded the newspaper and started flipping through the latest news. The dark blue-eyed gaze looked at him and fell into thought. Could this be Baljeet now ...?

Yes, it can. Like Buford's father. A bloated rich man surrounded by seemingly beautiful women.

Again, thoughts come down to one. When will he finally stop cheating and admitting it to himself?

"If only I had said it a few years earlier ..." - he thought, looking out the window and falling into a blissful sleep.

***

The ringing of the telephone woke him up from Morpheus' arms. Unknown number. With trembling hands, he picked up the phone, trying to remain as calm as possible.

,,Hello?’’ He asked hesitantly, praying it would be someone he was thinking about.

,,Hey, how are you doing, are you already?’’ Irving asked in his squeaky voice, which was already getting on Buford's nerves. The man sighed, looked out the window, and stood up, realizing that the plane had just landed at the airport.

,,Yes I am. Why are you calling?’’ He asked reluctantly as he stepped off the deck and stood at the briefing.

,,I'm sure. We have a "business friendship" The redhead chuckled on the phone, and Buford just felt his desire to punch some nerd in the face.

,,Yes, sure. Give me the address and it'll be over.’’

,,You have an appointment next week, at noon, at the address in the SMS. Just don't be late ...’’

Further on, the brown-haired man didn't listen to Irving, as he went outside with the suitcase. Staring at the Empire State Building, the buzz, millions of advertisements and all kinds of people around him, for a moment he felt like a little boy who got lost in a supermarket. And although there were skyscrapers in Las Vegas as well, New York had a special atmosphere that Buford himself could not define. It was certainly not an atmosphere of slutty and casinos, but rather refined, cool elegance and businessmen going about their daily business.

The man walked towards the car rental shop, catching a hot dog stand on the way. The sight of a bully dragging a huge suitcase and a modest backpack behind him attracted many looks among New Yorkers, but they were short-lived, indifferent looks, some even despising the carcass of the twenty-three-year-old. And he himself definitely did not feel well here.

***

Buford was still examining the silver key in his hands, as if he did not believe what it was supposed to do for him. It seemed so small and inconspicuous in his thick hands as if it mattered. And yet ... It was the key to his new apartment. Your own, finally not rented ...

"Sorry," a slightly nervous woman from the real estate agency cleared her throat "But you've been blocking the door for five minutes." I also have other clients, sir. So if you could ...’’

Buford passed the elegant blonde without a word and entered the spacious hall, staring in amazement at the walls. So this was New York life ...

The apartment was not overly large, but it was spacious. A separate, elegant hall in a modern style with high ceilings, in which lamps with a motion sensor were built in, surely created an impression. At first the brown-haired man thought that the light was on the switch and had to let him explain that the automatic light could not be turned off. It upset him a little. He preferred to have everything under control.

The kitchen was the second room. Buford liked it much more here. A window with a view of the skyscrapers and the sky, a huge refrigerator, an electric induction hob and black and clean everywhere. The stove was also unique in that it was decorated with white patterns, reminding him of the one in Tjinder's house when Baljeet made pancakes for him in his youth. The warmth in the heart also sparked the idea of a special boy in such an apartment with Buff.

The bathroom was dark tiled as well, with a great bathtub and shower. The agent, however, did not hide her embarrassment when Buford mentioned that he liked the dark loo with golden patterns the most, as it reminded him of the emperor's throne.

Then there was only a living room and a separate room. The living room was mainly occupied by a sofa, large plasma and a coffee table, and in the bedroom was a double, a comfortable bed, a wardrobe built into the wall and a pair of bedside tables. In the bedroom, however, the view was unique, showing skyscrapers, New York City streets and the New York sky, as well as the kitchen. Buford already knew that it was in these two rooms that he would like to spend his time the most, especially at night.

,,Do you have any other questions?’’ The business woman asked, clearly expecting a tip for her work. The dark blue-eyed man turned towards her and thrust a hundred thousand into the file without a word.

,,Keep the change. The contract is already signed. You can leave now’’ The man said coldly, and when he looked back, the woman was gone.

Putting his suitcase messily in the corner, he walked over to the window and smiled at the panorama. There are ads everywhere. And his dream was to be on one of them. He knew he had to try to submit his application until tonight. He knew he had to pull himself together and start over. Without thinking about them. About him.

Buford took a small, folded piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it, smiling involuntarily at the photo. Maybe not yet ... Not today.

***

,,So you are ...’’

,,Former Las Vegas pub worker, yes.’’

,,And you think that you are suitable for us. Why?’’ The hairless, elegant, black man from behind the desk scanned Buford once more, and Buford immediately felt that he was not welcome here. This conversation was definitely too boring.

,,I ... will be honest. Since I was a child, I have loved to perform in performances, theaters ... I have countless of them on my account. It's not even about the main roles, which of course are also important, but in my opinion, the most important thing is to be able to play the role in the best possible way, even if it is, say, a tree. You have to be able to be completely serious and a poker face, stand still for two hours, imagine yourself being part of the environment ... This, of course, is also a great responsibility. Nobody wants a tree to move, right? Unless it is supposed to sway in the wind, it's also something else ... ‘’ dark blue-eyed smiling nervously, while the African American from behind the desk did not seem particularly delighted.

,,I see’’ the man narrowed his eyes, then re-traced Van Stoom's CV ,,Well, there is commitment, experience ... We'll call you, okay?’’

Dark blue-eyed lowered his head, then shook his hand to the man behind the desk. He already knew perfectly well that he would not get the job. It was worth a try though.

,,Yes thank you. Goodbye...’’

Right after Buford, a long-legged blonde walked into the office, giving him an unkind, confident look and slamming the door behind him. After a while, the brown-haired man heard a handful of compliments and giggles.

,,Mrs. Garton, how glad you came ...!’’

Van Stomm gritted his teeth and started toward the exit. As his feet crossed the front door, he immediately noticed a bright billboard with a beautiful, skinny model with the words "New York - Here you will find happiness."

The artist of the poster, however, probably forgot that not everyone does not see happiness the same, and instead of a blonde, Buford would rather see the face of an Indian on the cloth.

Dressed in a garnet and looking like a wedding runaway, he headed for the main street, looking around at the shop signs, hoping to find something nice to look at. As he walked, he noticed the huge sign of the pet shop and the loud barking of dogs of all colors.  
Without much thought, he stepped inside and looked around the room.

In addition to fish, geckos and other turtles and hamsters, the store was almost drowned in dogs and cats. From Pomeranians to pugs and Rottweilers, from Siamese cats to ordinary meowing cats. However, his attention was caught by a basket in the corner, covered with a small, old blanket. As he came closer and knelt down, he saw a young English Bulldog with large brown eyes and his starts to heart beating faster.  
,,I see that that you liked our broken?’’ A young girl of Japanese beauty, probably a saleswoman, approached Buford ,,It is a lovely, but lazy bulldog. Recently he broke his right paw and he has to be led on hands ...’’ The woman did not manage to finish the sentence, because the man immediately pressed her five thousand dollars and started towards the exit with the dog in his arms. When he slammed the door behind him, he heard a short scream of the black-haired girl behind him:

\- But Sir, it only costs $ 1,000!

Buford paused, looked at the sad bulldog in his arms and after a while he returned to the store to buy more accessories for his new companion for a new life together. A few days later, he gave him a graceful name - Bacon.

It was then that Buford first left the feeling of loneliness, and it was then, also for the first time, that he forgot about Baljeet, devoting himself completely to the care of a new, beloved creature who adored him just as much, licking Buford's legs and twirling his hips.

And soon it was going to be even better. Because it's better everywhere than Stanford.


End file.
